The Loss of Innocence
by SteneMichele
Summary: Bree and Riley are typical high-schoolers- a head cheerleader and a football captain. What happens when Victoria shows up at their school with intentions of forming a newborn army? What happens when her interest in Riley is less than innocent?
1. Victoria: Con Artist

**A/N: I wrote this story with Liyorah, who is a very good writer. We equally wrote this first chapter, but from now on she'll be taking care of Victoria and I'll be doing Riley. We're splitting Bree. I urge you to read Liyorah's story, but I simply **_**demand**_** that you read them if you're a Victoria/James fan. **

I ducked swiftly through the streets of Seattle, hunting for my prey. The cold air whipped at my face, and I was nothing more than a red blur through the night. For once, I had not planned this attack; it was purely at random. I ducked in to the alleys, going place to place, not slowing down. I was thirsty, emotionally-drained, and in an overall foul mood. As I continued racing through; that was when I heard it. I stopped abruptly, and stared down into the open window. Someone was still in their office…

"Yes, yes, I know I have Mr. Thompson tomorrow. Mhm… yes, he's a…..?  
Let me get a pen."

_A therapist_? I thought, _how very interesting_; I could certainly toy with this one. The man looked to be in his forties. He was graying, and a bit pudgy. I ducked swiftly into the open window, and pounced onto the couch. The man gasped, and dropped the phone line.

"The… the… the…" he choked, staring at me, "The office is closed!" He seemed annoyed, once getting over his general fear.

"Yes, I do realize that, but I was hoping you could help me with my problem." I sweetly explained; my high soprano tingling like a chime. I smiled warmly, contorting my face from catlike, to doe-like. Dr. Silverman I noted to myself, reading off of his silver-engraved name on his desk.

Dr. Silverman pushed his glasses up, and glared at me. "You're going to have to make an appointment young lady! Now you'll have to leave. _Now_." He tried to make his voice harsh and commanding, trying to scare me. I simply  
laughed.

"But we could do this right now. My problem is easy to explain. My mate is dead, and I am very sad; I take my anger out on my prey, you see. I will give you ten seconds to fix my problem, or else I'm going to have to end your life." I sat up, folding my hands in my lap, extremely amused as he began sweating.

"I'm… I'm going to call the police if _you_ don't… don't leave in the next ten seconds!" he stuttered, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. I thought it was quite amusing how he simply changed my words to suit his threat.

"I thought therapists were supposed to be smart…" I mused softly, more to myself than to him. I stood, and walked over, grabbing him and hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt. "Time is up, and my problem is not fixed. Perhaps, since you are no good at your profession, you shouldn't be a therapist." I smiled, this time sad instead of sweet, but I made sure to show him my teeth. His eyes practically bulged from the sockets, stuttering and sweating like a pig.

"I… I…." Dr. Silverman gasped out, and before he could say any more, I dug my teeth into his soft neck. His blood rushed to meet my lips; he tasted rather sour; my lips puckered slightly through my drink. It didn't take long to finish the short, fat man off, and I was soon wiping the blood from my mouth.

Once finished, I sat back down onto the couch, and sighed. The truth of the matter was I was incredibly sad. I missed my mate; I missed my James. He was cold, harsh, patronizing, abusive, vicious, and yet, tender, affectionate, and loving. He was...dead. I trembled, curling up into the cushions, missing his strong arms; possessive and protective; tight around me. I missed him enough, to want revenge. I wanted to end that girl; that Bella. I hated her, and I hated Edward. The Cullen boy had been trying to track me; it was pitiful. He was a terrible tracker, and I had easily avoided him, landing myself here: Seattle. Over the months, I had traveled down to the South, and had found the most interesting thing: armies. Armies of vampires roamed all over, trying to conquer other lands from similar armies. The lands they wanted, come to think of it... it was a bit barbaric. The leaders of these armies used newborns. I would have collected newborns in the South, but then the Cullen boy had started tracking me. I would have to start fresh. I would start here in Seattle. The only thing was, I needed someone to help me- someone to help me control the newborns, but who? The other question was, what would they want in return? I pondered this….

At around seven in the morning, I left the office, leaving no marks behind. I was very good at keeping myself safe; it was my talent. I was an escape artist, a self-preserver, the corresponding piece to the tracker; my love.

Groaning, I moved out of the sofa, and climbed out the window, continuing on my way. I wasn't thirsty anymore; today would be about finding someone to aid me.

I passed through the streets, wearing my new contacts; a piercing, emerald-color, just like my eyes used to be. Today, I decided on going back to school. I hadn't been to school since the 1800s, and that was in boarding school. Chuckling, I walked to the welcome sign; if I could find someone here, then I would be set. Teenagers were the easiest to drink from, and then to resist. Their blood was usually tainted with alcohol or heroine, making it completely repulsive.

I smoothed out my shirt, knowing I was perfect. I was changed at the tender age of nineteen, and since my skin was so flawless, I could easily pass for a junior. I tied my fiery red hair back into a ponytail, barely containing the thick mane. I knew it would draw attention, and that was just my kind of outfit. My new ensemble was not particularly wild; my hair drew enough eyes anyway, so I did not need to compensate with sequins and jewelry. I had on a simple green blouse, a white cardigan, low heels, and a well-worn pair of darkwash jeans. Already, I outshined all. It was a public school; therefore, I wouldn't have to talk to any of the teachers. Most of the teachers, from what I heard about public schools, didn't know most of the students' names. It wasn't like I was getting a grade card. I would skip 'homeroom' and go straight into a class, sit in the back, and observe. If any of my classmates asked, I was an exchange student from England. This would be too easy; where was the fun? Laughing aloud this time, I walked on the pathway to the main doors. For the humans, it was freezing out. For me, it was hardly even chilly.  
Seattle Day School, what a very creative name, I thought sarcastically. Rolling my eyes, I moved up the steps, already drawing attention of the other teens walking towards the building. I ducked my head, keeping my eyes demurely to the ground. For once, I felt very awkward; I didn't talk much. Laurent was the most civil of our small coven, and therefore did most of the talking, while James had his arm constantly around my small waist. I didn't feel like starting up a conversation so early in the day; even as a child, I always hated people.

As I moved inside, my newly-green eyes saw them: the obvious popular crowd. There was the main 'it' boy, and his cheerleader girlfriend, surrounded by their friends. Most of them were already paired off. The main boy was very…handsome. For a human, that is. It was nothing compared to how my James had been. No- this was a boyish handsome; blonde, blue eyes, kind face. I didn't get a long enough look to describe him. I barely even noticed the raven-haired girl clinging to his elbow.  
"How cliché," I muttered aloud, pushing through the glass doors. I had barely gotten inside when I heard a small chuckle. I could practically smell the surprise of the under classmen, and one of them was interested in me. So soon? Did these children have no control, whatsoever, over their hormones?  
"Hey, Ginger," I heard a male say, trying to sound charming. I raised my  
head barely acknowledging him. It wasn't hard to guess that he was the best friend of the first boy. It was so cliché, I felt like gagging. The whole crowd seemed to stop talking, just to stare at me. I raised my eyebrow, and he grinned cockily. "You new?" I cast him my most captivating smile.

"Sort of," I replied mysteriously, throwing in a sly wink for effect. The boy froze, his dull brown eyes widening with excitement. I could tell that he was proud to be the first one to talk to me. His blonde friend, the clear leader, was watching with withdrawn admiration, absent-mindedly allowing his girlfriend to kiss his cheek. For my own amusement, I tossed him a smirk, daring him to acknowledge me. I could see him clench his fist, forcing himself to turn back to his scrawny girlfriend.

"'Sort of'?" the other boy repeated skeptically, tossing his shaggy brown hair out of his face in a vain attempt at nonchalance. I laughed softly, playing along with his foolish effort at flirting.

"Well, what do you mean by 'new'?" I challenged, surprised at how easy it was to resist this boy's scent. Yes… there was definitely the faint trace of marijuana, maybe even some sherry.

"Are you new _here," _the boy clarified. "Because in that case, I could gladly show you around. I'd show you to your next class, if you want. Or… I could show you somewhere… _else." _He grinned, his voice thick with implications.

"I don't know," I replied slowly, toying with his emotions. "Your friend is kind of cute." I jerked my head towards the blonde boy, just to repel the cocky brown-eyed boy from future advances. The boy froze, his smile wiping off of his face as though I had slapped him.

"My- my _friend_?" he repeated dubiously. I nodded, batting my eyelashes.

"Yes, the one with that girl over there," I persisted. The brunette followed my gaze, landing on the blonde. Comprehension hit.

"_Oh_," he murmured, shaking his head in bemusement. "That's Riley. Don't even try. That little girl is a bitch." I laughed, sure that nothing that the girl said or did would faze me.

"I'm sure I can handle it," I pointed out. The boy shrugged, doing that stupid hair-toss again. I stiffened, thrown off of my guard by the scent.

"Let's put it this way," he mused. "Riley's been my friend since kindergarten. And the girl- she's Bree McCoy. She's been with him for a year now. How should I put this… Bree is the head cheerleader and Riley's the captain of the basketball team." Clearly, this was supposed to mean something.

"Should that concern me?" I responded, widening my eyes with fake distress. The boy laughed loudly, clearly wanting to draw attention to the conversation that we were having.

"You got balls, Ginger," he chuckled. "Riley… if he's nothing else, he's _loyal." _I smirked, pulling my hair clip out of my curls and letting my locks tumble down around my shoulders.

"He doesn't look so loyal to me," I pointed out, smiling slyly at the blonde. He stumbled backwards, accidentally letting his girlfriend slide into a water fountain. I laughed audibly, widening my eyes at the brunette as if I had proven a point.

His words had been childish and stereotypical, but they had intrigued me. _Loyal. _I did need a second-man, a beta, an assistant. And in my opinion, this Riley boy was knocking out all of the competition.


	2. Riley: Player

The second that I set foot in the building, Bree bombarded me; even more than usual, she seemed almost possessive of me. She was wearing my home jersey, tied tightly in the back so that the mesh uniform clung to her skin. _Damn, _I forgot that we had the pep rally today. That kind of made sense, however, since it was the Friday before our big game and all. I glanced down at my flannel button-up, unsure whether or not my teammates would make fun of me. Yes, I would have to call my mother to bring my away jersey up to the school.

"You're not wearing your jersey, Riles," Bree pouted, wrapping her arms around my neck. I returned her kiss, slightly disoriented. When our lips met, it was sweet but flat, like a Coke without the bubbles.

"It totally blew my mind," I confessed. "I had other things on my mind." Like my Spanish oral and... and my parents pending divorce. But Bree had interpreted my words all wrong.

"Oh, yes," she cooed. "Ever since that _night, _I've been a bit distracted, too." It took me a second to comprehend what she was saying, but then I remembered what she was referring to. It had all been a mistake, that evening in the back of my Jeep. I always went too far when I drank. I had downed the Budweiser's as if they were breath mints and Bree, she hadn't exactly been a 'designated driver'. I didn't really think about it; she looked so pretty, and it was so fast. I guess... it happened. Luckily, I had been sober for a week now, so I was in a good position for the game against the Montauk Marauders. It was vital that I be in peak shape, because I was our leading quarterback, and nobody else could make a run like I could.

Although, I doubted my skills would make up for me forgetting the pep rally; Yes, my teammates would most certainly make fun of me. They never took it too far, however. I was their idol, their _captain. _

Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of something that wasn't as tedious as my over-bearing girlfriend. It was a beautiful mane of red hair, shimmering like the flames of a fire. She was so pale, so... perfect. It almost hurt to look at her, but she was looking right at _me. _My left leg gave out, making me grab onto the door frame of a classroom. Bree, who had been leaning on me, collapsed onto an automatic water fountain. Water squirted up into her face, and I had to stifle a laugh.

"God, Riley!" Bree shrieked, straightening herself up and shaking out her shoulder-length brown hair. "What the hell did you do that for?" I shook my head like a dog drying himself off.

"I got... distracted," I explained. The word 'distracted' had the same effect on her as it had a minute ago. She was obviously under the impression that I spent all of my time thinking about that night. Now that she thought that I was fantasizing about her, all was forgiven. So shallow, yet so effective. Did she really think I was so infatuated with her, that I didn't have my own life? It annoyed me to no end how her problems always seemed to come first.

"Riles, take my jersey," Bree offered, pulling away from my half-hearted embrace and sliding out of the overlarge jersey. I froze, unsure what she was doing. Yes, Bree had always been a bit promiscuous, but _stripping in school_? Oh- she was wearing a tank top. Still, the tank top was not the thickest material...

"Nah, I'll call my mom," I replied, kissing her forehead as she pressed her torso to mine. "You're the cheerleading captain; jersey-wearing is your calling." Bree winked, sliding the jersey over my head.

"But taking care of my boyfriend is my job," she joked, kissing me lightly. I took her by the waist and gently pushed her away. I wasn't in the mood for her adoration; when she laid it on this thick, it became a bit tedious.

"Unfortunately, so is going to your 1st period class," I pointed out. Bree stuck out her lower lip, widening her already large eyes.

"It's just not fair that you get a free period while I have trig," she argued. I shrugged.

"Next year you'll be a senior," I reminded her. "You'll have plenty of free time then." Bree sighed dramatically.

"It won't be any fun," she muttered bitterly. "You'll be some football star at college, and I'll just be a high schooler. How should I know if you go and get some blonde Dallas Cowboy cheerleader?" She waited impatiently for my answer, but all that I could do was laugh. She didn't seem to find that amusing though. I think it actually annoyed her more. I hated these games; there were no right answers to her questions. It was almost as bad as, "Am I fat?"

"You know that you're the only cheerleader for me," I recited for the millionth time. Bree seemed pleased as she turned on her heels and blew me a kiss, heading towards the Math wing. I waved, my mind elsewhere. As soon as she disappeared around the corner, I spun around, searching for the girl that I had seen before. Ha. She was talking to Lucas, the second-line defense man. The pimp. The player. Though Luke's many endeavors normally amused me, _this _one angered me. This girl was much too beautiful to be _tricked, laid and used. _For some odd reason, I wanted to protect the fire-haired beauty. I didn't want her anywhere near my _friend_. Judging by the look in Luke's eyes, I could tell that this was his motive. Luke's motives always ended up with short-skirted girls taking nine-month 'vacations'.

"Bro!" I called, waving to my friend from across the hallway. Luke froze, clearly annoyed with me. I smirked, crossing the hallway in three strides. As soon as I became face-to-face with the strange redhead, I stopped breathing. She was even more breathtaking up close, with her wide green eyes and her flawless ivory skin. She giggled at my apparent surprise which only made it harder to think clearly. Her laugh was like wind chimes, and suddenly I felt like a snake being controlled by a snake-charmer.

"Hello," I muttered, trying to feign nonchalance. "Are you new here?" Luke cast me a dark look. It was almost too quiet to hear, but I was pretty sure that he muttered something along the lines of, "Let a player play." The redhead did not seem to hear him, however, so I decided that I had imagined it. Let a player play, indeed.

"Yes, I'm from Easton," the girl replied, her voice almost as enticing as her laugh. "My name's Victoria. And you are?" Luke cut in, clearly frustrated with me.

"I just told you," he snapped. "That's Riley. Riley- like a girl, _Riley. _I have a cousin named Riley. She's a girl, though." I smirked, refusing to let down my guard.

"That's nice, Lukey," I murmured, holding my chin high. "Are you cutting class? Don't you have remedial English or something like that? Special Ed...?" Luke jutted his elbow into my ribcage, but I stifled a grunt. As if cued, a woman that I recognized from the Language department swooped in and muttered something to Luke in a harsh tone. I smirked as the redhead looked across the hallway. Luke cast me a resentful look at the hook-nosed woman led him away. Time to pounce. _Damn, _did I really just think that? _You have a girlfriend, Riley, _I reminded myself, _Another girl on your mind and it'll affect your game. A girlfriend who idolizes you; behave for God's sake._

"Poor guy," I muttered, shaking my head as Luke disappeared into the counselor's office. I could afford some sympathy now that the competition was gone. _Crap. There you go again, Riley. There is no competition._ _Repeat: YOU. HAVE. A. GIRLFRIEND. _"I have a girlfriend." I mumbled under my breath.

"Excuse me?" Victoria demanded, under the intention that I had said something. _Shit, that sounds like I thought she was hitting on me!_ My eyes shot up, falling on her beautiful pools of emerald.

"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head stupidly. "I have a _game_. Football." _Damn. _Why had I told her that? Now I sounded like I wanted to impress her. Which I _certainly _did not. No. No romantic motives here, just a guy showing a new classmate some hospitality. Victoria glanced down at my jersey, furrowing her brow as if she thought that I was crazy. I was acting like it though. I couldn't blame her for thinking it.

"Yeah, I sort of assumed that," she muttered. "The jersey and all..." I followed her eyes to a fluorescent flyer advertising the pep rally.

"So what's your name?" I asked, desperate to reclaim my dignity. The redhead laughed at something that I couldn't see.

"Victoria," she replied, her green eyes twinkling. _Okay, she's obviously trying to start over; don't mess it up this time. _Totally ignoring my own advice, I jumped as she tossed her red curls over her shoulder. A stupid quote crossed my mind. "_Once in his life, every man is entitled to fall in love with a gorgeous redhead." _

"I'm Riley," I said, though I regretted it at once. _Not that kind of start over dumbass!_

"Yes, I know," Victoria giggled, jerking her head towards the direction that Luke had gone. _Damn defenseman. _

"So..." I stammered, "Do you need directions? To your next class or anything?" Victoria considered this, but then seemed to decide on something.

"First period is my free period, actually," she replied. _Some guys have all the luck. _


	3. Bree: Head Cheerleader

Trig could last for hours. It seemed like that at least. I guess I passed the time thinking of... _that night._ Riley seemed more out-of-it than usual today. He almost seemed _mad_ at me. It wasn't as if I had done anything wrong. In fact, I had let him take my jersey... but maybe he's just nervous about that game? Well, I guess he should be. After all, he _is_ the team captain. Captain of the football team, and the head cheerleader. I let out an involuntary sigh, causing the people on both sides of me to cast me a perplexed look. Could there be a more perfect couple? No, there just couldn't be. It's in all the movies, and all the shows, and all the books... Well, the few books that I have actually _read. _

"Miss Haverfield!"

My head snapped up to find my teacher glaring down at me, her mouth pulled into a tight grimace. Her small eyes were narrowed even more than usual, giving her wrinkles on her forehead that reminded me of waves in the ocean.

"That's twice today that you've been dozing off," she hissed, gesturing to my barely-started notes. "Would you like to tell us the topic of today's lesson?" I blinked, trying to catch a glimpse of Shannon's notes. She awkwardly adjusted herself so that her paper was out of my sight. I cast her a nasty look, silently threatening to dig my hands into her spine the next time that I was above her in the cheer pyramid.

"Miss Haverfield?" Mrs. Grey demanded, bringing me out of my bitter reverie. Ugh. What a bitch. A pruny old bitch.

"Sorry," I muttered, trying to get out of a detention. She seemed satisfied with my apology, and walked away, leaving me to my 'work'. I winced, pulling a piece of bubblegum out of my pocket. The teachers hated gum, but there were no rules against it. Yet.

Class ended five minutes early, or at least I _left _five minutes early. This was high school, after all. Boyfriends were priority. I found _my _boyfriend at once. He was in his usual spot, sitting in the center of the common room on the fountain. A small group of freshman were nearly blocking him, yet I could see that he was talking with somebody. I narrowed my eyes, immediately recognizing that mane of red hair. If my face could have turned green, it would have. But he was _mine, _and now he was talking to that little redhead skank? _Ugh_. Curiosity merged with envy, so I pulled my sunglasses out of my purse and ruffled my hair up in a lame attempt at a disguise.

The large crowd of students cutting class helped me sneak up behind the two, and I immediately picked up on the gist of the conversation. It was a typical multi-gender high school conversation. Everyday chatter, with poorly-concealed flirting thrown in here and there. Stupid Riley... falling for this girl's tricks. And he didn't even recognize me sitting _right behind him_ facing the opposite direction?

"Dijon? Like the mustard?" Riley asked, in response to the girl telling him where she was from. The redhead tossed her hair back as she let out a high-pitched laugh that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"If that's the way that you want to look at it," she giggled, taking a stray curl between her thumb and index finger and twirling it in circles. I rolled my eyes; hair twirling was _my _thing.

"So what grade are you in?" the girl asked. Poor Riley. He had to be subjected to this strange girl's boring questions...

"I'm a senior," Riley replied, a hint of pride in his voice. I rolled my eyes. The fact that Riley was a year older than me had always enthralled me. He had been out-of-bounds as far as my parents were concerned, and I had been the subject of envy in my friends' eyes. It was a perfect set-up, really. Until he walked across the stage and accepted his diploma.

"Me too!" the redhead squealed, as if this was a huge coincidence. I refrained from rolling my eyes; she could have passed for a _college_ senior. "I would have thought that you were a college student, though. If I didn't know that you went here." Riley blinked in shock, clearly flattered. Puh_-lease_. Riley was muscular and all, but he had a boy's face.

"I'm not," my boyfriend replied, his voice once again brimming with pride. "You don't look like a high-schooler yourself." He threw the redhead a sideways glance, anticipating her reaction. Of course, the knowledge that she looked older than she was thrilled her.

"That's another thing that we have in common!" she replied excitedly. How could somebody's voice be so... _high? _I scoffed, glancing down at my nails. What was the _other _thing that they had in common? The ignorance was clawing at me...

"So," Riley began, silently ecstatic that they were so similar. "How are you liking it here?" The redhead bit her full bottom lip, glancing up at the ceiling.

"Well, I wasn't expecting to meet somebody so friendly before my first class," she admitted. Ugh. Overkill. "But it's not that bad here. Maybe you could show me around town sometime? I don't really know my way around..." Riley considered this, tentativeness evident in his face. _Don't do it, Riles, _I pleaded silently, _Tell her that you have a girlfriend. Tell her my name. Tell her how wonderful I am. _

"I'd love to," my boyfriend responded, a bit too enthusiastically for my liking.

"Great." The redhead gave off a perfect white smile; damn, why doesn't my mom let me get my teeth whitened?

"Riles!" I piped in, unable to contain myself any longer. This girl was being too... _ugh_... _flirty_. He was _my_ boyfriend, after all, and I was about to make that extremely clear.  
"Um... hi?" The girl looked confused, as if I had interrupted something. _Please,_ she should consider herself lucky that I'm giving her a fair warning.

"Hi, you must be new. I'm Bree, Riley's girlfriend, and head cheerleader. You are?"

She blinked rapidly, before speaking. To my disappointment, she collected herself much quicker than I would have thought. "I'm Victoria."

I stroked Riley's forearm before wrapping it around my shoulder, tossing _Victoria _a seemingly-friendly smile. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but Riley and I have to be going."

"Bree, we don't even have a class together." My dim-witted boyfriend unwrapped his arm from shoulder, licking his top lip awkwardly. "And I'm kind of showing Victoria around. You know, cause she's new and whatever."

"But don't you need to get ready for the pep-rally?" I persisted, glaring at him, and putting my hand on my hip. "You know, _now?_"

"There's a pep rally?" Victoria chimed in, looking innocent as possible. I hated her already. No- I had hated her the moment that I had laid eyes on her.

"Duh," I muttered, casting Riley my famous _Isn't-this-girl-stupid? _look, "Why do you think I'm wearing this uniform?"

"You're right Bree. I'd better go." Riley licked his teeth again, before rushing off, pausing to wave. "Nice meeting you Victoria!" We both watched in heavy silence as he hurried around the corner. I pounced as soon as he was gone.

"Ok, let's start again. I'm Bree, and that's my boyfriend. Since you're new, I'll let this encounter pass."

"Excuse me?" Her emerald eyes narrowed, bringing the phrase 'if looks could kill' to life.

"Are you retarded or something? I'll spell this out for you, nice and slow. Stay. Away. From. My. Boyfriend."

"Is that a threat?" Her oddly-emerald eyes were sparkling with something that resembled amusement. This bothered me to no end. There was nothing that I hated more than not being taken seriously.

"I'm sorry?"

"How about I spell _this_ out nice and slow for you. N-o. Did that pass through your thick head?" Did this whore really just use my insult?

"New girl, you're messing around with the wrong person. Take my advice, and you keep your slutty hands off of Riley. Clear enough, _Victoria_?"

She didn't look intimidated. She just laughed. "Slutty hands? Sweetheart, I've dealt with bitches before, and let me tell you, that's not the most creative insult. Here's one that tops yours. If you had half the beauty that I had, maybe your little _boyfriend_ wouldn't be sniffing around so easily."

I glared at her and retorted icily, "What did you say?"

"Who's retarded now? You are no competition for me." She smiled patronizingly at me and added in a saccharine voice, "That means, I'm going to go after Riley. Did you understand that?"

"Don't you dare!"

"I"ll go for whomever I please, but if it makes you feel better, you're no more pathetic than most of these other high-schoolers."

"If you go near Riley, I'll make your life hell!" I barked at her, practically seething, trying to gain a somewhat cool composure. She seemed to be completely relaxed, and this angered me.

"Really? I'm not the right person to threaten."

"Do you know who I am? I run this school, new girl, so you better watch it!" I hissed, storming away from the redhead. Instead of the whimpers I normally heard from girls I'd just threatened, I heard that annoying high-pitched laugh. Who did that bitch think she was? She had just arrived_, today_, and she already was going after _my _Riley! _Am I really no competition? _I couldn't help but think, but then again, I was Bree Haverfield, and this was just some annoying transfer. Riley would never dump me for _her. _

I stormed into the girl's locker room, and my squad was already getting ready. I huffed in the mirror, glaring at my reflection. When no one payed attention, I sighed long and drearily.

"What's the matter, Bree?" Chloe asked. Chloe was co-captain, and a complete bitch, but when we were face to face, we acted like best friends.

"Nothing!" I groaned, dramatically, flipping my hair, trying to gain more attention. If I wanted to put the new girl in her place, I needed a lot of sympathy, and a lot of people.

"Yeah, are you okay, Bree?" Jessie asked, coming up from behind me, and placing her hand on my shoulder.

"I don't think I can tell you guys," I whispered, up-playing the desolation in my voice_. C'mon fishies, take the bait.... _

"You can tell us anything!" Chloe gasped, playing into my drama. As my father would say, _hooked, fish, line and sinker. _

"But, it's so embarrassing!" I whined, running my hand through my black bob.

"Tell us!" Lynn pleaded, resting her chin on my shoulder and staring at her own plain reflection. The drastic contrast between our faces gave me confidence, so I began the act.

"Some girl..." I started shedding tears, looking for the rest of the squad's attention. They immediately fell silent, merging from loyal friends to anxious gossips. I didn't care- As long as they were on my side. And _they _would be, once they saw how the girl treated _their _boyfriends.

"Did she give you that black eye?" Lynn squealed, her dull eyes widening. I spun around, casting her a spiteful look.

"What 'black eye'?" I demanded, as she cowered back. My eye-makeup wasn't that dark! She just had no taste.

"Nothing..." Lynn muttered softly, lowering her head in shame. I glared at her, until she moved to the back of the crowd. It wasn't my fault that my fake tears made my eyeliner run...

"Continue, Bree," Jessie hissed exasperatedly, "Nobody likes Lynn anyway." I smirked, pleased.

"She's the new girl," I explained, and everybody's reactions stopped me. They all looked confused; as if they had no idea what I was saying.

"We have a new girl?" Jessie asked, cocking her head and squinting her eyes.

Momentarily, I forgot to be upset and made the mistake of saying, "You shouldn't do that, your eyes are small enough as is." Snapping out of trying to help, I had a few more tears trickle down my face and said in a whimper, "But, yeah, we have a new girl. Her name is Victoria."

"What an awful name!" Chloe interjected, trying to get back in the conversation.

"I know." I brushed her off and continued, "She called me a bitch!" There was a collective gasp, which is exactly the type of reaction I was hoping to get. Wiping my red cheeks, I looked at everyone pathetically, and all of them looked back as if I had told them I was dying.

"That's awful..." Rachel murmured resting her un-manicured hand on my shoulder in what a gesture that was supposed to be sympathetic.

Moving her hand carefully off of me, I continued my pity act, whining, "And... she's after Riley!" Another gasp from my squad, and I was almost positive I had them on my side.

"What a slut!" Came Jessie, and stared at me in horror. "Who does she think she is?!"

"What if she does..." I whined, closing my eyes tightly, "What if I'm not good enough for him?"

"Of course you are Bree! She's just a stupid little bitch! I bet she's a prostitute. That's why she's after him." _And there we go._ The rumors were starting. All it took was a mere comment, and I knew my squad would have the entire school talking.

"She's been here two days and she's already _gotten_ with the entire football team's second line of defense."

"Wait until basketball season starts! Ugh, at least she's not a cheerleader."

I made no move to stop them; they could say whatever they wanted to say about her. And where would this all lead Victoria? Hopefully it would lead her to go back to whatever shitty school she came from.


	4. Victoria: Heroine

I sat down on the bleacher in a somewhat empty area. It didn't take very long for at least ten boys to be seated around me, casually trying to strike up a conversation. I gave them extraordinarily boring answers and showed my distaste in the conversation until finally the message went through, and they stopped trying to grab my attention. Well, all except one, and that of course was Luke.

"Ginger, what do you think of Riles? Pretty lame, huh?"

I raised my eyebrow at him, and said smoothly, "He's very charming." It didn't take long for Luke to recover, as he started off telling me a story about how "lame" Riley was.

"His name first of all, Ginger! I mean, do you think his parents really named him that? Riley, like I said, girl's name."

"Uh-huh," I muttered nonchalantly, staring at the cheerleaders setting up the court and getting the microphone ready.

"He told me not to tell anyone this but... he made out with a dude once. For reals, Vic."

"Are you sure that wasn't you?" I asked with a smirk, as he turned beet red.

We were cut off by a "Hello S.D.S.! This is your cheer squad saying, are you ready to show some school spirit?!" coming loud and clear throughout the whole gymnasium. There was a lot of booing, but it was covered up by all the wanna-be outcasts screaming their heads off. Teenagers - I'll never understand their need to "fit in".

"Shit, gotta go! See ya out there, Ging'!"

And there she was, in the front of the squad, taking the megaphone from one of her teammates: Bree.

"We've," they clapped. "Got," another clap. "Spirit!" Clap. "Hey!" Clap.

"S-P-I-R-I-T SPIRIT!" The girls formed a pyramid. "Let's hear it!"

They got down from their pyramid, and Bree called out, "Now, let's here it for our ah-mazing basketball team!"

Oh my lord, I was going to be sick.

Bree, very reluctantly and with a hair flip, handed the megaphone down, until it was in the hands of a more dowdy member of the squad. She called out in a nasally voice, "For our second line..."

I tuned her out, not really caring to hear the names of the names of the arrogant jocks. They could prance around the court all they liked, but I could already see the half I would use if I were to change them, while the other half - the second lineup- made up for their lack of muscle with their pig-headed smirks. They were so full of themselves. It was really a wonder that any sport was actually played at this school; it seemed as if these boys spent most of their practice flaunting in the mirror. How were they any different than the cheerleaders? Then, something caught my attention.

"And now, my boyfriend, Riles Manson!" I looked at Bree with a cocked head. Did she really just announce him as her boyfriend? How needy was she? And "Riles"? I could tell that Riley was incredibly uncomfortable as he headed out. He licked his lip as he high-fived his team-members and the basketball team circled up, doing a "1,2,3, GO HAWKS!"

I tuned out for the rest of the pep-rally. It was nothing more than the silly cheerleaders prancing around, lifting up their skirts, jumping up and down, and the boys whoot-whoo-ing the entire time.

That pep-rally took up the rest of the morning classes, and so it was time for the humans to have their lunch. This would be an excellent time to catch up with Riley.

As everyone exited the gymnasium, I stayed, waiting for the team to change. They emerged from the locker room, after egotistical discussions of the fine meat walking around the school, in groups of three and four. I ran my hands through my hair, and stared down at my shoes, waiting. It didn't seem like a lot of time before I heard, "Looking for someone?" I pretended to be surprised, although I heard him the moment he stepped out of the locker room, and giggled at Riley as he headed up towards me.

"So... what did you think?" he asked, sitting down next to me, giving me a shy, boyish grin.

"It certainly was interesting. My school didn't do quite the same for pep-rallies." Ha, my school didn't have pep-rallies. We didn't have cheerleaders. The closest we had to this was when our Manners Mistress gave us announcements for the next day, before we went off to bed. I had grown up in a completely different time than Riley.

"Oh, well, it was pretty interesting, huh?"

"I'm confused," I told him, staring at him with my wide, green eyes, "Do you like being called 'Riles'?" I scrunched my nosed, disgusted at the pet-name. It sounded wrong coming out of my mouth.

"Um... Bree likes it, so it's cool."

"But, like, I thought they were announcing the guys by their names and nicknames? If that's your nickname, should I call you that?"

"NO! I mean... nah, no, it's... it's not my favorite nickname..." He was so flustered as he ran his hand, sheepishly, through his hair. The contrast between him and my James was incredible. I stared at him intently, thinking of him as a life partner. I couldn't even use the term 'mate' when I talked of anyone besides James. James was so... forceful and direct - perhaps, a little cruel. Riley was shy, sweet, and endearing, but I could never love him. Never. But, I could lie, very well.

"Alright then, Riles is out!" I chirped cheerfully, brushing his hair out of his face.

"RILEY!" I heard a sharp, harpy voice yelp, and there she was again.

"Hi Bree!" I waved, innocently at her, before batting my eyelashes. "You guys did super great!" Ugh, I sounded like a barbie doll.

"Thanks," she said coldly, walking to the edge of the bleachers. "Riles! We have to get lunch, honey!" Riley turned red again, before walking down to her.

Mid-way, I called out, "Riley, weren't you going to show me around the school?" I looked at him, mentally willing him to come back up. He looked at both of us for a moment, like a puppy choosing which owner he wanted to stay with, before he cautiously walked up towards me.

"Yeah, actually, I am. Sorry Bree. You can get lunch with your squad, right?"

"Yes, but I want to have lunch with _you_," she said, keeping on the fake grin, although it was quivering, as she gave me a spiteful look.

"But, I already promised..." he began, before she cut him off.

"Well, baby, show her around some other time." I decided that this was enough of Riley and Bree time. I was just going to have to get my way, on my own.

"I'm so, so sorry, Bree, but I need to know where my next class is, and Riley was going to show me." I gave her a wink before saying, "You understand, don't you? I mean, unless you can't find _anyone_ else to sit with at lunch, and you absolutely need Riley there with you..."

Her nostrils flared for just a split-second, before she put on a neutral face. "I'll see you after lunch, Riley," she said, bitterly, before walking out. There was a moment of silence in which Bree's icy grasp seemed to freeze Riley over, and then it evaporated. A charming smile swept across my face and I took a step closer to Riley. It was slightly closer than necessary, but it was still innocent.

"Why'd you say that?" Riley murmured, though he didn't sound disgruntled at all. On the contrary, he seemed almost grateful for my lie.

"I thought you would give me a tour," I replied, widening my eyes like a doe caught in headlights. Riley recoiled slightly, grabbing a side of the bleachers for support.

"I guess- I guess I could- could give you a- a.." his voice cracked. He was clearly flustered as he added in a voice two octaves too high, "tour." I nodded, biting my lower lip. And then several things seemed to happen at once. Riley's palm slid off of the railing he had been clutching, and his eyes widened in fear. His hands, which had been nonchalantly spinning a basketball, did not grab onto the seat quickly enough. His boyish, yet still muscular, body crumpled between the gap in the bleachers. In his horror, he only managed to hold on for a second or two. In a flash of fiery hair, I dove behind him. His corn-silk hair slipped through my fingers as he catapulted towards the ground, and time stood still.

For the first time in my never-ending existence, I was concerned. Not for the boy's life, naturally, but for his _purpose_. It all became quite clear. Riley was easily manipulated, reasonably charming, and at peak physical condition. These characteristics would be multiplied, of course, when I changed him. He couldn't die now, in a freak bleachers accident. What a waste that would be. It would ruin my whole plan, and I would have spent the past two days just toying around with a young girl's pettiness. It was clear what had to be done.

I slid agilely through the gap in the bleachers, curling my arm around Riley's waist just as he let go of the metal. He grunted slightly at the force of my impact, but I merely swung my torso around and pulling him onto the metal seat. For a second that lasted longer than I thought possible, I held him still. If he moved, he would be in danger again. When it became apparent that he was going to survive, I pulled myself through the gap and settled next to him.

"Are you okay?!" I gasped, pretending to be the stupid girl who had just witnessed a miracle.

"Yeah, yeah - you saved me!" he cried out, eyes wide with horror from the near-death experience, and gratitude for my quick reflexes. "T-thank you!" There was no hesitation, no second thoughts, before he was hugging me tightly, as if I were the only solid thing in the universe. I knew I had to think quick, or he would catch on to me... I couldn't have him think I saved him out of affection, or out of some bizarre super-human impulses.

"I didn't want anybody to think I had pushed you off or anything," I teased, only half-joking. "The new girl can't get a bad reputation on the first day." But Riley was smiling, in a daze that nobody but I could penetrate. There was a slight gash on his forearm from where he had collided with the cold metal bleachers. I could almost feel my emerald contacts dissolving at the luscious scent of it.

"Come on," I interupted, waving my hand in front of his face. "Let's go grab lunch."

I leaned down to support him, wary of his post-traumatic balance. I averted his gaze, trying to clear my mind. The truth was, I hadn't even considered his potential as a sidekick when I had saved him. All that I could think was, _"Not him."_


End file.
